


blemished

by thir13enth



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 07:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14929646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: She never meant to see the scars on his back.





	blemished

She never meant to see him this way.

“Right,” she remarks, trailing behind him down the hallway as she looks over the hologram plans projected over her arm. “Now that we’ve reconstructed the outer skeleton, it should only take a few more visits before your mothership is completely functional.”

“Yes, you and Voltron have provided me undue support, and for this I’m eternally grateful,” he replies, turning a corner into a room, a storage space they’ve temporarily provided Lotor as a sleeping quarter. “Excuse me, I need a quick change of outfit.”

“Of course,” she says automatically, her attention still held by the blueprint on the hologram.

She squints, studying the details of the ship. In all her time alive, she’s surprised she’s never witnessed at firsthand the construction of Galran ships. She’s had plenty of experiences with many other alien technologies, but by far, her education has never gone so far as to expose her to this — and it’s _fascinating_.

Based on the blueprints Allura looked over, the Galrans seemed to value the strength of their ship’s innate defense systems, covering their vehicles with kobalt — atoms of the greatest mass and with stable valence layers. Kobalt, however, is consequently incredibly unwieldy and heavy, requiring multitudes more energy to fly around. The Galrans seemed to have found a way around this, incorporating small bullet holes of quintessence-enriched crystals throughout their ship’s exoskeletons, which decrease the weight of the ship and add additional charged-based protection to their ships.

Internally, their ships were designed to have as much wide, open space as possible, opting for straight lines of corridors that would spill into rooms, eventually leading to the front-placed bridge. This contrasted with general Altean construction, which emphasized the ceiling height of rooms and were organized more like a web, all leading to the centrally placed bridge.

So many design concepts she’s excited to learn about, and for the first time, she feels a strange positive energy in anticipation of getting to see Lotor’s mothership from the inside.

Lotor’s charisma is getting to her, probably. She’s never been eager to see a Galran ship, even less so to learn from its construction and potentially adapts its technology to the Castle of Lions. His natural charm and communication skills alone casts doubt on any misgiven feelings she has about his dark history, and at the moment, at least logically, she’s convinced helping him reconstruct his fleet is the best way to win the overall war.

She looks back up at him. “You know, I find the technology of your ship—” but she stops when she sees him pulling the top of his armor over his head, suddenly remembering that while her attention was completely occupied by the blueprints cast over her arm, he _had_ mentioned he planned for a change of clothes.

She never meant to see him this way. As he flips the armor over his head, the hem of the inner shirt catches and lifts up to his shoulder blades, and she accidentally catches a glimpse of his back.

There’s discolored patches of old injuries, contracted circular wounds, and hardened burn marks, but most unmistakably there is a double line of white following his spine — showcasing his Altean lineage — interrupted by four scars engraved in keloid tissue slashed across them.

She takes a sharp inhale, turning herself around and pressing her back against the wall. She stares ahead down the corridor, busily scrolling through the blueprints over her arm.

“My apologies,” he says, walking back out of his temporary sleeping quarters, buttoning the top two of his shirt. “The assembly took a lot out of me, I suppose.” He looks over at Allura, not seeming to know at all that she walked in on him changing. “I’m surprised you’re not looking more tired yourself, but I suppose Alteans have the advantage in strength.”

“Oh, we absolutely have more strength,” she assures him facetiously.

He gives her a small smile. “So, what was it that you said about the technology of my ship?” he asks, heading to the bridge. “I regret I didn’t hear you completely, and I do hate missing compliments.”

She trails behind him. “It wasn’t a compliment directed toward you, just a comment about Galran tech,” she chides.

“Galran tech that _I_ adopted to put onto _my_ ship,” he counters, swiveling his head around to give her a smirk.

She rolls her eyes. “Right,” she says, giving him the credit. “And I’m invited to your first test drive, I take it?”

“Of course, Princess,” he promises her. “Anything your heart desires. I owe you at least that for your aid in reconstructing my fleet.”

“Hm,” she murmurs in agreement.

Her eyes veer unconsciously to his back. The white button-down he wears is completely solid and not at all transparent, but she can still see every mark and disfigurement on his back like he is completely unclothed. She can’t get it out of her head — because it’s horrendous and because she never expected that such atrocities were committed on him. Lotor doesn’t carry the weight of abuse or shame as she’s seen others do, and in fact, if she didn’t know any better, she would have never guessed his skin was any more calloused than the palms of her hands.

But now, knowing his back as well as she knows her own, she can’t help but see him differently.

“Well now that you’ve praised my ship, I have to also admit the Castle of Lions is very impressive to me,” Lotor suddenly tells her. “Do pass Coran my utmost respect for the ingenuity that went into this ship’s construction.”

Pulled out of her thoughts, she looks back up at him. “I will,” she tells him, and then she hesitates before she asks, “Did you learn at all about Altean technology in your upbringing?”

He shakes his head. “No,” he replies, his voice trailing off.

“Not even in theory?” she asks. “I mean, even the libraries I grew up with—”

“Only how to destroy them,” he says definitively.

“I see,” she says, quieted.

“That’s why it’s truly an honor to be aboard the Castle of Lions,” he suddenly remarks, his intonation rising again. “Had I stayed with the Galrans in their old ways of thinking, I would have never seen the marvels of my other heritage.”

She thinks of the biggest scars on his back — the ones directly over the bright Altean marks down his spine — and she doesn’t ask any further.

She almost hates that she sees him in a different light now. She never meant to see the scars on his back; she never meant to find more ways to empathize with him. She wanted to keep things between them as rationally diplomatic as possible — simply a temporary alliance she could turn back on at any given moment when the time necessitated. But now, having seen his back, having seen his vulnerabilities, she hates that she knows she is less likely to do any of that.

She never meant to see him this way. She never meant to think of him in this way. Now, she never meant to feel about him in this way either — never mind feeling anything _at all_ for him.

And stars help her, because what is seen can’t be unseen, what is thought can’t be unthought, and what is felt can’t be rid at all from her growing pool of emotions about him — and she is _so so_ afraid that when the time comes to let him go, she won’t be able to.

**Author's Note:**

> can't believe the day of s6 is upon us......
> 
> hmu on   
> tumblr @ahumanintraining  
> twitter @napsbeforesleep


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